


We Had a Date?

by Winchester_with_Wings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Job, College AU, DO NOT COPY, DO NOT REPLICATE, Do Not Translate, F/M, Jealous Dean Winchester, Library Sex, Oral, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, prompt, unprotected sex, writing challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:16:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7233442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchester_with_Wings/pseuds/Winchester_with_Wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: “Did you forget we had a date?”</p><p>Graduate Student AU</p><p>You're studying with a classmate at the University library when Dean shows up. Dean's angry that you blew him off so you make it up to him in the private study room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Had a Date?

**Author's Note:**

> For Lexie Carver’s SPN Writing Challenge! She picked me to participate, I picked a prompt, smut was encouraged and I had to post it by June 30th.
> 
> This is an AU. You’re a graduate student and so is Dean. You’re closer to 30 than 20 yrs old. So this is a bit of an older Dean. Not the baby-faced Dead of earlier seasons.
> 
> It's been a while since I wrote Dean smut. I hope it's okay. Lemme know what ya'll think :)

You’re not one of those straight A students who thinks of themselves above others. One of those who look on smugly as other people fail and you succeed. You weren’t that kind of student when you were an undergrad in college and you’re certainly not one of those during your graduate program.

You’re fortunate to be a fast learner and if you think you can help out a classmate by putting the lesson into terms they understand, you do it. So when your classmate Johnny gets a disappointing grade on an assignment on Monday, you don’t hesitate saying yes to helping him study and complete the next assignment due on Friday. But you do forget about it until Wednesday’s class.

The two of you plan to meet at the library on Thursday night. You figure that’s a good time because it gives him time to work through the assignment and for you to complete yours and because your boyfriend Dean should be working that night.

You realize you’ve forgotten to tell Dean about your plans tonight when he texts you that morning.

“ _Hey babe are you doing anything tonight?_ ” he texts you. You’re in class at the time so you respond without looking at your screen.

“ _Yeah you? ;)_ ”

“ _Oooo alright see you then ;)_ ” he replies and that’s the extent of your texting with Dean on Thursday. You’re both in class–Dean’s at the campus on the other side of town since he’s a Mechanical Engineering grad and you’re a History major and you have work in the afternoon while he works at night. It’s all fairly routine.

When you get to the library, you head for the private study room you’d reserved for you and Johnny. Studying with a partner was easier when you had a study room because you could talk at a normal volume. Still, as you take out your computer and books, you put your phone on silent. You didn’t want to deal with constant phone calls and texts from friends wanting to go out on Thirsty Thursday.

Johnny is younger than you and an excellent student. His notes just aren’t as detailed or organized as yours. So once Johnny has had a chance to look at your notes, he understands the assignment and begins to work on an outline for the short essay. You work on completing yours. When one of you has a theory or a question, you bounce the idea off the other. It’s looking like Johnny is actually a good study buddy to have.

The two of you lose track of time, writing your essays quietly. The study room has no windows, just harsh lights that are perfect for the all-nighter. But that hadn’t been the plan. You’d thought to work until 7 and then head home. You’ve completely forgotten your phone, on silent and tucked away in your bag.

Johnny is sitting close to you, looking over your shoulder at your notes. He’s a little flirty, sitting closer than he needs to, his foot touching yours. You’re about to tell him that you have a boyfriend–the usual deterrent lines: he’s a mechanic, used to be a football player, at least 3 years older than you, possessive and wildly in love with you.

But before you can, it’s Johnny who finally notices the time. 9:30.

Shit. Dean’s not gonna be happy.

But you have no idea how unhappy he’d be…that is until you check your phone and find 8 missed calls and at least a dozen texts. There isn’t even time for you to go through the texts and voicemails.

Dean storms passed the door to your study room. He must have done a double take because he backtracks and looks through the window in the door. What he sees is Johnny brushing shoulders with you and laughing off the time. He doesn’t know that Johnny’s just happy to have completed his essay.

The sound of the door swinging open is loud and it startles you. You jump out of your seat and it probably looks like you’ve been caught doing something wrong.

“Dean? What’re you…”

“Y/N! What the hell? What the hell is this?” Dean interrupts you, his voice is gruff and little too loud for a library. You shush him, moving him further into the study room and closing the door behind him.

Johnny puts the table between him and Dean, his back against the wall. Dean is staring daggers at him, his nostrils flaring and his lips pursed into a tight line. He’s wearing a denim button up shirt and a black t-shirt underneath. His jeans are dark and they have a couple of holes in them. His hands are balled up into fists.

“Dean! Calm down,” you say in a tense voice. “We were just studying. Johnny is just a classmate.”

“Just a classmate? You blew me off for a classmate?” He turns those angry eyes on you. You’re not scared like Johnny though. You’re actually taken aback and give him a confused look.

“Blow you off? What are you talking about? You were working tonight.” Dean’s eyes are flicking back and forth between you and Johnny and looking down at the table where all of your school work is spread out. His expression starts to soften so you take this opportunity to address Johnny. “Johnny, I’m sorry about this. You can go. I need to talk with my boyfriend.” Johnny accepts his queue and slinks out of the room.

“See you in class tomorrow. Thanks for your help,” he mutters on his way out.

Dean huffs like a bulldog who’s successfully warded off an intruder to his yard.

You start to pack up your belongings and Dean heads for the door too, wanting to continue this conversation elsewhere. You push the door closed defiantly and close the blinds on the window for a little more privacy.

“Uh-uh. We’re gonna talk right now,” you say as Dean slumps against the wall. You place a hand on your cocked hip. “What the hell?” is how you start the dialogue.

 **“Did you forget we had a date?”** Dean asks you, the crack in his voice makes him sound almost…jilted.

“Tonight?” Dean nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “Um…I didn’t know we did. I thought you were working.”

“No. I worked an earlier shift today. That’s why I texted you this morning.”

The both of you are utterly confused as you pick up your phone and go through all the missed texts. Every text that you haven’t read is Dean asking where you are. The only one that could possibly be about a date is the text you answered this morning.

“ _What are you doing tonight?_ Dean that is not how you ask someone out!” you sigh and maybe laugh a little.

“It is, when you’re already my girlfriend,” Dean grumbles. You roll your eyes.

“It’s totally vague! What did you think my answer meant?”

“ _Yeah, you_ ,” Dean recalls what you’d texted back. He shrugs, his full lips pushing into a slight pout. “As in ‘yeah I got plans to _do_ you.’ As in…sex…with your boyfriend. Not some…random classmate.”

“Oh, come on Dean!” you plop down into your chair. “I told you, we were studying. And wow…you really read into those _two_ words.”

“You used a winky face.” Dean’s never been the best at texting, especially when it comes to double meanings or implying anything.

“Because I love my boyfriend,” you stand up out the chair. You lean into Dean and his arms unfold so that your chest can be pressed to his and his hands rest on your hips. “And I like to wink at him all the time.” To prove your point, you wink and then peck him on his pouty lips. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the door to the private study room you’re currently occupying. With the blinds on the window closed, no one can see into the room.

“I made dinner,” Dean sighs, feeling like a fool.

“Aww really?” You smile up at him, looping your arms behind his neck.

“Well I tried.” There’s a light sparkle of humor in Dean’s bottle green eyes.

“Awww,” you giggle and peck him on the mouth again. Dean’s not content with your little pity kiss and his lips follow yours as you try to pull back. You smile against his kiss. “You get jealous so easily,” you murmur. Dean’s grip on your hips tighten.

“Well you’re mine,” he growls back and it sends a shiver of promised pleasure down your spine.

“And I’ll always be yours. Just like you’re mine,” you take his bottom lip between your teeth. “Hey baby, do you remember our first couple of dates?” You start to kiss a trail along his stubbled jaw.

“Yeah, I asked you to tutor me so I could spend more time with you.” Given that history, it’s actually understandable why he wouldn’t be happy seeing you tutor someone else.

“And our first kiss?” you whisper in his ear, nibbling on his earlobe. It was when you were sophomore undergraduates and Dean was on the football team.

“It was my reward for getting the extra credit right.” Having Dean pressed between you and the wall leaves little space for him to maneuver. You can feel him getting hard through his jeans.

“And our first…everything else…?” you breathe along his skin, licking and sucking a mark on his throat.

“It was…” You run your hands down his chest, your manicured nails dragging over his pecs and the faint ridges of his abdomen. Dean releases a quivering sigh. You start to unbuckle his belt. “Right here.”

“I’m sorry I missed our date. Let me make it up to you?” You slowly sink to your knees.

“Someone might see us,” Dean chuckles.

“That didn’t stop us before, did it?” You look up at him from under your lashes, your fingers deftly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants.

“Fuck, no,” Dean releases a guttural moan as you free his cock from the confines of his clothing. He’s rock hard, the risk of getting caught turning you both on.

“You’re as sexy as you were back then,” you praise him, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. “Maybe even more.” You flick your tongue over the swollen head of his dick. Dean’s hands move into your hair, tangling his fingers in your thick locks.

He doesn’t force your mouth onto him, he lets you tease him. Just like you’d teased him back then–because back then you’d been inexperienced, whereas now you know everything there is to know about Dean Winchester’s body.

You make eye contact with Dean while you swirl your tongue around his cockhead. Dean chews on his lower lip to keep quiet. You press the tip of your tongue against his slit, lapping at his precum. When you lick a line up the underside of his cock, that’s when Dean breaks eye contact as his head tilts back against the wall.

You close your mouth around him. Keeping your lips in a perfectly tight O shape, you slide your mouth up and down his dick, licking and sucking as much as you can take. Then Dean’s hands in your hair help you take him deeper. He thrusts into the back of your throat while you loosen your lips and relax your jaw.

“Uhhmmm, fuck,” Dean hisses. “Love fucking your mouth. So warm and wet.” You squirm on your knees and Dean chuckles. “Are you wet for me, baby?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum and Dean’s hips jerk at the vibration on his dick.

“Oh god.” Dean’s grip on your hair loosens when you put a hand on his thigh. He lets you pull back, his length sliding along your tongue until it’s almost completely out. You bob your head in slow but long strokes. When you squirm again, the wetness between your legs becoming unbearable, Dean chuckles.

“You wanna touch yourself, baby?”

“Mmm, mmhmm.”

“Then do it,” he stutters. “Touch yourself, sweetheart. Make yourself come.” At his command, you slide a hand into the waistband of your yoga pants. You rub yourself through your panties until you can’t take it anymore. You pull them to the side and slide your fingers between your wet folds.

You try to buck and grind your hips against your fingers at the same time as you suck Dean off. It’s a bit like rubbing your tummy and patting your head; it takes coordination and concentration, which falters as you experience wave after wave of pleasure while touching yourself.

Your two slicked up fingers pinch and squeeze and rub over your clit at an irregular rhythm. Your moans are muffled as Dean thrusts into your mouth. He knows when you climax because you pull your lips away from his dick and sink back onto your heels, your own hips thrusting against your hand.

Dean bends over fast to cover your mouth with his, kissing you to keep you quiet. He then coils his arms around your waist and lifts you off the ground. He sits you on the table and stands between your legs.

“Did that feel good, baby?” Dean gives you a cocky grin. You answer him by removing your fingers from your folds and offering them up for him to suck on, which he does hungrily. He starts to yank your yoga pants down, pulling your underwear with them. Your bare ass is sitting on the table.

Dean’s large and calloused hands push on your thighs, opening you up. Your fingers leave his mouth so that you can hold onto the table. Dean pulls up a chair and sits down between your legs. He lays a hand on your stomach to coax you into lying back on the table while Dean leans forward to feast.

He kisses and nips at your inner thighs first, his stubble burns and gives you goosebumps. Your hand flies up to your mouth to stifle your giggles.

“I love watching you come. But _making_ you come is my job,” Dean breathes between kissing your thighs. He runs his chin along your skin for good measure since he knows you like the stubble.

He slides his hands under your shirt and reaches for your breasts. He pulls one of the cups down and is pinching and pulling on your nipple at the exact moment that he locks his lips over your dripping core.

His teeth graze over the sensitive bud of your clit and then he wastes no time dipping his tongue into your entrance, moving in and out at a delicious pace. He wraps his plump lips around your clit while he pushes one and then two fingers into you. You arch your back off the table, one hand burying itself in Dean’s dirty blonde hair. Dean curls his fingers just how you like it, a come hither motion which certainly _does_ make you come.

You’re able to keep quiet as this second orgasm overtakes you. Your breathing is rapid and coming out in short bursts as you hiss, “yes, ohmygod, yes Dean, right there.”

“Shhh, babe, we don’t want to get caught now, do we?” Dean whispers, kissing your thigh as he works you through your orgasm. Your head rolls from side to side in response. Dean chuckles as he stands up. “I need to be inside you, sweetheart.”

Your thighs open wider while Dean pushes his jeans and boxer briefs down to his knees. You remove your shirt but your bra stays on, though your heaving breasts aren’t contained in the bra cups.

You massage your breasts for your and Dean’s viewing pleasure. He chews on his lower lip as he wraps his hand around his hard cock. He strokes himself slowly, his other hand running up and down your leg while you hook it behind him and bring him closer. He runs the head up and down your slit before entering you.

Usually, at home, Dean is faster at filling you up. But then again, you’re much louder at home too. Dean’s going slow so that you don’t make too much noise. Your hushed breaths and “Oh, oh yeah,” turn Dean on nonetheless. Once he bottoms out and you’re feeling full and stretched, your legs wrap around his hips and encourage him to thrust, to fuck you on this table in the university library.

Dean builds up to it but never goes full power.

He’s braced himself by placing his hands on the table. He rolls his hips, gyrating and teasing you with slow strokes. He’s biting his bottom lip and his nose is scrunched up. He sort of looks angry.

You reach out to caress his face, to ask him what’s wrong. But Dean’s hand shackles your wrist and pins your hand down to the table. He pins your other hand above your head too.

“You stood me up,” Dean growls. He punctuates the statement with one hard thrust. You gasp, the corner of your mouth turns up in a cute little smirk. Apparently, you need to egg him on to get what you want.

“You didn’t ask me out,” you counter, catching the tip of your tongue between your lower lip and teeth. Dean grunts and pounds into you again, his pelvis grinds against your clit.

“Yes, I did,” he asserts himself by leaning forward and nipping a little too hard at your throat. You fight Dean’s grip, holding your arms above your head. You desperately want to touch him. You run your tongue over the freckles on his shoulder before kissing his tanned skin.

“You never ask me out,” you hiss, receiving a sharp thrust you can feel deep in your belly. “You just expect me to be at home,” another thrust, “waiting for you, waiting for your dick, waiting for you to ravish me. That’s all I am to you,” you spit out harshly. Your mouth drops open after another thrust; your gasp is caught in your throat.

Of course none of this is true. You go on plenty of dates despite busy schedules and you and Dean are madly in love. Dean just also happens to love rising to the challenge to prove how much he loves you and needs you.

“Don’t even have to be at home,” Dean groans, his mouth dragging over your throat. He releases your wrist finally, his hands taking hold of your breasts. “I can have you right here. I don’t care if someone catches us. It’ll only prove that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours. And you’re mine,” you whisper in his ear, your hands threading through the hair on the back of his head. Dean’s thrusts are dragging on again, slow but deep and totally on purpose. The pressure inside you is building up. If Dean would just give you the constant and fast thrusting that you like, you could come any second. You drag your nails over his back, clinging to him.  “I’m sorry Dean,” you keen, giving him the apology that he wants.

“Oh, you _will_ be,” Dean chuckles. “What if I don’t let you come at all? Would that teach you to never stand me up again?” He nips at the skin behind your ear and then pulls away, standing up straight.

He pulls himself almost all the way out. You slide your hand down your body, nibbling on your lip to tease him. You slip your fingers into the apex between your legs and roll them around your wet and swollen clit.

“I’ll make myself come again. Maybe that’ll teach you to ask me out properly next time.”

Dean rolls his eyes and chuckles. “I’m never gonna live this down,” he admits. He drives his hard cock into you with one thrust and then proceeds to pound into you. You have to cover your mouth again to hold back your cries of pleasure. But there’s no way the two of you can stifle the sound of the table creaking beneath you.

Someone knocks at the door.

Dean doesn’t stop.

A rush of adrenaline surges through you. There’s someone on the other side of the door, someone that could catch you, and yet all you feel is even more turned on.

“We’re _studying_ in here,” Dean manages to say in a relatively normal voice, though his brows are furrowed and his mouth is hanging open as his own impending climax building. “Find your own study room.”

You think you might hear some meek student mutter “sorry” before moving on.

You’re laughing without a voice, momentarily forgetting the immense pleasure you’re feeling. Dean still doesn’t stop. He’s like a wild stallion, unbridled passion and lust coursing through his veins.

He feels thicker, harder, throbbing even. Dean is so close to his climax. You want to be the one to send him over the edge. But remembering what he’d said about being the one to make you come, you take his hand from your hip and guide it to your sex.

He takes his cue, rubbing your clit just hard enough to hover on the threshold between pleasure and pain. It’s enough to send you hurtling through to your third, and largest, orgasm with a spasm so intense that you can’t help but arch your back all the way up off the table and lurch forward, suddenly, into Dean’s arms. Your walls clench around him, your juices making his grinding even smoother.

“Ohhh fuck,” Dean moans, finally giving in with staggering hips; his hot seed pumping into you.

Dean leans forward and holds you to his chest as the two of you ride out your orgasms, the shared euphoria synchronizing your bodies, your breathing, your heartbeats. You breath in deeply the scent of Dean’s cotton shirt and denim button-up; this whole time his upper body has been dressed, only his pants and boxers around his ankles. He smells like leather, gasoline and whiskey. It’s a smell that you never imagined loving, until now when you can’t possibly live without it.

Slowly, Dean pulls out of you. He hands you your underwear and you put them on quickly. If the result of you and Dean’s lovemaking is going to make a mess, it’s better that it be in your panties and not on the table, floor, or dripping down your legs.

Dean pulls up his pants and buckles them while you put your pants back on too. He watches with a smirk and a chuckle as you adjust your breasts, putting them back in the bra where they belong and then pulling your shirt down.

You finish putting away your schoolwork–a notebook or two had fallen on the ground while Dean was screwing you on the table. Then the two of you are standing in the small private study room sharing satisfied but guilty smiles.

“Should we go home now?” you ask, shrugging your backpack onto your shoulder. Dean opens the blinds on the door window and then opens the door itself.

“After you,” he offers. You take a few steps and then stand on your tiptoes to kiss Dean chastely.

“I really am sorry for standing you up,” you apologize.

“You can keep making it up to me when we get home,” Dean winks. You giggle.

“Oh yeah! And you made dinner!” you exclaim in a hushed tone as the two of you walk through the library.

“Well it’s probably cold by now…but then again…it was burned when I left it,” Dean says sheepishly. You giggle and hook your arm through Dean’s.

“How about we get burgers and fries and have a picnic in our bedroom with the TV?” you suggest, wiggling your eyebrows at him. The two of you are approaching Dean’s Baby. Dean grins at you.

“Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“Hmm I think so. But you can remind me when we get home and I get out of these clothes.“


End file.
